Star-Spangled Rejects (The Heavenly Grille Café Book 3)

by J. T. Livingston

  Cheryl had stopped at the Heavenly Grille every morning for breakfast, after dropping Jimmy off at school. She was there again on Thursday, February 4, talking to Doug and Bertie and sipping on a cup of hot coffee when the object of her determination finally walked through the door at the right time.

  Doug smiled and nodded when Joe, Bernard, and Jason walked through the front door and began to make their way to the counter for breakfast. He waited until Cheryl had sat her cup on the counter before he took her hands into his own. He stared into her eyes and grinned. “Don’t look now, but Jason is coming your way.”

  “Oh, no…” Cheryl gasped, jerking her hands away and smoothing her long hair behind her ears. She looked nervously at Doug and looked as though she was about to hyperventilate. “How do I look? Do I look okay? What do I say to him? Do I…”

  “Too late for questions,” Doug whispered and looked beyond her. “Good morning, fellas! I hope all of you brought your appetites with you this morning. Max is whipping up the best country omelets you’ll find this side of Dixie. There’s plenty of room at the counter; have a seat.” He motioned Joe and Bernard to the two farther seats down from Cheryl. “Here you go, Jason. There’s one seat left. I’m sure this beautiful young lady won’t mind if you sit next to her. Will you…Cheryl?”

  Cheryl’s eyes opened wide with fear but she continued to stare straight ahead, looking at Doug. She shook her head in response to his question.

  “Thanks,” Jason said. “Omelets sound good, but I could sure use a cup of strong coffee, Doug.”

  “Us, too!” Joe laughed. “I like omelets, but I was really hoping for some of Max’s buttermilk pancakes.”

  “He didn’t forget you,” Doug laughed back. “He has a special stack of them with your name on them, Joe.” He looked at Cheryl. “I think the pancakes are your son’s favorite breakfast food, too, isn’t that right, Cheryl?”

  Cheryl still couldn’t find her voice, so she simply nodded in affirmation and gulped down her coffee. She loosened the scarf at her neck and began to take off the denim jacket she wore; it had suddenly warmed up considerably in the café.

  Jason finally glanced over to look at the person he had sat down next to. He had not noticed the long, auburn hair until the woman began to remove her jacket. His heart gave a quick flutter and he held his breath for a brief moment. When it became obvious that her arm was stuck in the sleeve of the jacket, he stood up and moved to stand behind her. “Here, let me help you with that.” He still had not seen the woman’s face, but his heart suddenly began to beat a little faster.

  Cheryl was staring a hole through Doug, who had moved down the line and deliberately focused his attention on Joe and Bernard.

  “That should do it,” Jason spoke hoarsely. He couldn’t explain why his palms were sweating or why his heart seemed to beat as loudly as an entire drum line that consisted of snare drums, tenor drums, bass drums, and cymbals. His hand grazed the woman’s tiny hand as he pulled the jacket sleeve off her arm. That moment—and that touch—was absolutely electrifying. He pulled back at the same time she did.

  Cheryl finally turned her stool to face him. She gulped loudly—at least it seemed loud in her own head—and, smiled timidly. “Thank you.”

  Doug moved back toward the couple and said. “Have the two of you met yet?” He held back a grin when both of them shook their heads, unable to stop staring at the other. “Cheryl Crennan, meet Jason Benton.”

  Cheryl’s focus never wandered from the light blue eyes that she thought she would never see again in this life time. She held out her hand awkwardly, hoping that Jason would take it. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jason.” She sighed with relief when he took her offered hand and held it longer than any introductory-meeting required.

  Jason shook his head and smiled, and did not immediately release her hand. He spoke low enough so that the other men couldn’t hear him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Cheryl Crennan…again.”

  The café had thinned out considerably by eleven-thirty. Joe and Bernard had finished their meals an hour before and had gone into the kitchen and back yard, respectively, to help Max with some small chores. It was the only way they had agreed to live in the apartment—in exchange for helping around the café.

  Cheryl and Jason were still sitting next to each other at the counter. They had been talking and catching up on each other’s lives for the past two hours, and neither of them wanted to be the first to end their time together.

  Jason was the first to make a move to end things. “Cheryl, I have some things I have to do today. I wish I could stay and talk to you some more. I know there’s a lot more to catch up on, and I’d like to hear about everything, but…”

  Cheryl placed a hand on his arm. “You’re right, Jason. There is an awful lot we need to catch up on, but I’d rather not do it here, and, you said you have things to do, so…”

  “I want to see you again, Cheryl.”

  “I want that, too,” Cheryl smiled. “Listen, if you’re not busy tonight, would you like to come over to our house around sevenish, maybe? I could order a pizza. There’s, uh, someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Jason grinned back at her. “Yeah, I heard Doug mention that you had a son. I think I could make that work. I should be finished with what I need to do by six o’clock. Where do you live?”

  Cheryl blushed. “Jason, I know your situation. I know you don’t have a car. Why don’t I pick you up here around six? Jimmy has basketball practice after school and I usually pick him up around six-thirty. Would that be okay with you?”

  “I really don’t mind walking,” Jason stared back at her. “But, sure, that would be great. I’ll be waiting in the parking lot for you.”

  “It’s a date!” Cheryl beamed. She waved good-bye and hurried out the front door.

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck and felt his skin heat up. “A date, huh? Yeah…I remember our last date…”

  Jason spent the rest of the day doing what he had done every day for the past week. He walked into town and searched all the places he thought Stella might be hiding out; he didn’t think, like so many others, that she had left town. He stopped by the Rome Police Department to speak with the arresting officer, Thomas O’Brady, and for the first time since Skipper’s arrest, found him. Officer O’Brady was headed inside the police station when Jason spotted him.

  He yelled out to get the officer’s attention. “Officer O’Brady? Could you hold up, please?”

  Thomas watched a man wearing a worn, brown, leather jacket run across the street toward the police parking lot. Something about him was vaguely familiar. He instinctively placed his right hand atop the gun in his holster. “That’s me—something I can do for you?”

  Jason slowed down as he approached the officer. It dawned on him that the night of Skipper’s arrest was not the first time he had seen this particular officer. O’Brady had been the officer in the park who had approached him when the three teenagers were ready to cause problems for him. “Yes, sir.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jason Benton. I was with the group—the homeless group—the night you arrested our friend, Skipper. I was hoping you might be able to tell me what happened to him, where he’s being held.”

  O’Brady accepted the man’s firm and steady handshake. He nodded. “I remember you. I’m really sorry about your friend.”

  Jason hid his surprise that a cop would say something like that. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he’s being held? Can he have visitors? We’re all pretty worried about him.”

  “They transferred him, over the weekend, to the county jail over on New Calhoun Highway. He can have visitors, but he would first have to agree to add you to the list. Each inmate is allowed one or two visits a week, for up to an hour each time. Inmates with special privileges are allowed additional visits, but I think you know as well as I do—that probably won’t apply to Skipper.”

  Jason shrugged. “No, something tells me that Skipper isn’t the type that would receive an
y special privileges. So, he would have to add me to his list, huh?”

  Thomas nodded. “Yep, and I’ll be honest with you. I’ve talked to him several times, and I don’t think he’s interested in adding anyone to that list—not even his own brother.”

  “He has a brother?” Jason asked, incredulously.

  “He does, indeed.”

  “He never talked about any family,” Jason shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I figured he had probably outlived anyone in his family. He’s never talked about being married or having kids, but then again, he never talked about much of anything.”

  Officer O’Brady was quiet for a moment. “Something tells me that you and old Skipper have something in common. You’re a Veteran, too, aren’t you?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Jason grew defensive.

  Thomas pointed at him and grinned. “That right there—that defensive attitude that seems to comes out of nowhere—and, the way you carry yourself. I’m right, aren’t I? I know that Skipper was in Nam. What war claimed your soul?”

  “I joined the Army in 2007, served two, back-to-back tours in Iraq. I got out about six years ago.”

  “Have you been homeless ever since?”

  Jason began to feel uneasy with the officer’s line of questioning. “Hey, I just wanted to find out some information about a friend. I’m guessing that he couldn’t post bail?”

  Officer O’Brady shook his head. “The judge denied him bail, even though he had the cash to pay for it himself, believe it or not. Our county prosecutor has deemed Skipper to be an imminent flight risk.”

  “Is there any way to get a message to him? Just to let him know that we want to do anything we can to help? Maybe you could ask him to add me to his visitors’ list?”

  “I can do that,” the officer replied. “I need to finish some paperwork before my shift ends for the day, but I can make a stop at the jail on my way home. They’ll let me talk to him.”

  Jason held out his hand again. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” He turned to leave, but the officer’s booming voice stopped him.

  “How do I get in touch with you, Jason Benton?”

  Jason chewed his bottom lip for a moment or two before responding. “There’s a café across the street from where Norman Weissman was killed. It’s called the Heavenly Grille Café. If I’m not there, you can leave a message for me there. Thank you again, Officer O’Brady.”

  Thomas nodded, turned, and headed inside the police station.

  Jason looked at the time that flashed across the street on a bank’s marquee. If he left now, he should be able to make it back to the café just in time for Cheryl to pick him up for their date.

  “It’s not really a date,” he told himself. “It’s just two people getting together to rehash old memories of their awkward teenage years.” He zipped up his jacket and pulled out the old pair of gloves that Skipper had given him the night of his arrest. “I wonder what her son is like…”

  Cheryl’s cell phone rang just as she closed the kitchen door on her way to pick Jason up from the café. She saw that the call was from Jimmy. “Hey there, kiddo. I’m leaving now.”

  “I’m glad I caught you before you left, Mom. Listen, practice is going to run over about a half hour to forty-five minutes, so don’t worry about picking me up. The coach goes right by our neighborhood on his way home and he said he would drop me off.”

  “Are you sure?” Cheryl asked. “I mean, I don’t mind waiting for you to finish practice.”

  “No, it’s cool, Mom. Don’t worry. I should be home no later than eight, okay?”

  “Well,” Cheryl sighed. “Okay, then, but try not to be too late. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Aww, Mom. You know how I hate surprises.”

  Cheryl laughed and said. “Hurry home, kiddo. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  Cheryl hopped in her Beetle Bug, turned on the heater, and headed toward the Heavenly Grille. She was both nervous and excited about tonight. She was nervous that Jason Benton would turn and walk out on them once he found out the truth about Jimmy; but, she was, also, very excited knowing that she would be spending the evening with the only man who had ever made her toes curl!

  CHAPTER 14

  Jimmy Meets His Dad

  Kirk and his friends had been riding around since school let out a couple of hours earlier. Kirk was restless, and he didn’t want his friends knowing how worried he was about the old woman he had paid to tell the cops her story. He didn’t trust her to leave town as she had promised she would do. He was relieved when he read in the paper that another homeless man had been arrested for the murder of Norman Weissman, but, he didn’t like knowing that his future—or lack of one—might rest in the hands of an old drunk woman with a sour attitude. He was almost 17 years old, and although his friends might think he had everything under control, he actually felt insecure and scared of what might happen to him if the truth ever came out.

  “I should have killed the old woman, too,” he thought as he drove along back roads, glancing into the woods, and praying all the while that he would not see the old woman lurking behind the bushes. “The paper said her name was Stella Sieber. Maybe I could hire someone to track her down…to make sure she really left town. What’s to stop her from coming back and demanding more money? Yeah, I should have killed her all right.”

  “Yo, Kirk!” yelled Michael Bozeman from the back seat. “Slow down, buddy! You took that last curve on two wheels!”

  Kristy unfastened her seat belt and snuggled as close to Kirk as the front seats allowed. “No, no! Do it again, baby! That was so much fun!” She threw back her head and laughed out loud. “Man, this is some really good boom! Where did you find it, David?”

  David Mizen smiled back at her from the back seat. “There’s a new supplier in town. He deals some good stuff, but you get what you pay for—this stuff cost me almost twice as much as what I used to get off that redneck kid from the south side of town.”

  Kirk was within a couple of miles of the Heavenly Grille Café when Kristy stuck out her bottom lip and whined. “I’m really hungry, Kirkie. Let’s stop some place and get something to eat. Please!”

  “Hey, this place looks familiar,” Michael’s speech was a little slurred. “Isn’t this the place where you…”

  Kirk stared in the rear-view mirror into Michael’s frozen face. “Shut up, Mike. Not another word from you.”

  “What’s he talking about, baby?” Kristy grinned, looking back and forth among the three young men.

  “Nothing,” Kirk replied, tight-lipped. “There’s a café up ahead. We’ll stop and grab some burgers and fries.” He looked into the mirror and stared hard into Michael’s chagrined expression.

  “S-O-R-R-Y…” Michael mouthed back at him and gave him a thumbs-up gesture. “Yeah, I could use some food, too. I’m starving!” He shrugged and punched David playfully on the shoulder, while holding his finger up to his lips and shaking his head in a giddy fashion.

  Kirk swerved sharply to the left and barreled into the parking lot of the Heavenly Grille, just as Cheryl and Jason were about to pull out onto the highway.

  Cheryl’s hand flew to her heart and she gasped. “Oh, my goodness! We almost didn’t even make it out of the parking lot.” She looked over at Jason, who was holding onto the door handle to keep from rolling onto her lap. “I’m so sorry. That car came out of nowhere.”

  Jason looked out the back window and watched the teenagers jump from the black Toyota Land Cruiser. He recognized the four teenagers as being the same ones who approached him in the park more than a week ago. “Crazy teenagers,” he said. “They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

  “That’s true of most of them,” Cheryl agreed, “But, they’re not all like that.”

  Jason grinned. “Oh, that’s right. You have a teenage-son, don’t you? Well, of course, that doesn’t apply to any kid of yours.”

  Cheryl smiled back a
t him. “I’m not saying that just because he’s my son. Really, I’m not. Jimmy is a good kid.” She glanced into her rear-view mirror. “I think I recognize those kids that almost crashed into us. I can’t be sure, but I think they might be the ones that Jimmy hung out with for a while.” She shook her head. “Maybe not—I’m just glad it didn’t take him long to figure out that they were bad news.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Jason nodded. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. We’re picking him up from basketball practice, right?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. No, he called just as I was leaving home tonight to say that practice was running late. His coach is bringing him home later.”

  “Does that mean I won’t get to meet him?”

  Cheryl shook her head. “No, of course not. You’ll get to meet him. In fact…” she took a deep breath and decided she may as well spit it out now. “It’s very, very important that you meet him.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jason quickly became suspicious of her evasive explanation.

  Cheryl took another deep breath and kept her eyes on the road. “Jason, I don’t know if you remember that one night we spent together or not…”

  “Of course, I remember it,” he injected. “I don’t think anyone ever forgets their first time.”

  Cheryl gasped. “What? You mean it was your first time, too?”

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean, you couldn’t tell?”

  “Honestly, Jason, I really don’t remember much about that night. I mean, I was really wasted. It was the first time I’d ever been drunk, and the first time I’d ever…well, you know…but, no, I had no idea it was your first time, too.”

  “We were both pretty wasted that night,” Jason agreed. “But, I still remember what happened between us. Your eyes—those haunting, green eyes—I think I dreamed about them more than once while I was in Iraq.”